


talk to the shadows

by Mallior



Category: The Losers (Comic)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Possibly OOC, Unbeta'ed, post-comic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 07:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1974648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallior/pseuds/Mallior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He is not here...”</p>
            </blockquote>





	talk to the shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended music: Skylar Grey - Words  
> The fic is unbeta'ed and English isn't my first language.

  It was so old, he thought it would crumble. Weathered wood, ivy covered stone walls and dark brown shutters with chipped paint glared back at him. Jensen just stood on the brick pathway, overrun with dried grass. The house was small and abandoned for decades, it would need a lot of work if he wanted to move in before winter.  
   Jessica thought he lost his mind, when he showed her the pictures. And, to be honest, she was right. Jake wasn't a handyman, nor DIY champion, but he knew that, if he didn't find something to occupy his mind, he would end in a loony bin. Sitting on his ass and doing nothing was never his forte, he never had the patience for it. Not like... He shook his head, no, not going there. This was the reason he bought the old house, three blocks from his sister's house.  
   With a tired sigh he walked up to the rickety porch, fishing the keys from his pocket. The lock opened with a loud click, letting Jensen inside.  
   It was empty and dusty, with little mounds of junk in the corners. Jake closed the door and slowly turned around. The walls were in a dire need of fresh paint and the floorboards were absolute loss. The wires in the wall were also old, probably from the sixties, judging from the light switches. If he wanted to use anything else than candles and wood stove, there was a full rewiring in his future.  
   With careful steps he moved farther into the house, avoiding the missing boards.  
   The kitchen was a time capsule with horribly old fashioned counters and cupboards. Rusted, bent faucet, glass shards in the sink... For a moment he thought, it would be easier with a brick of C4, but Jessica would be absolutely mad at him, showing bad example for her daughter.  
   Leaving the kitchen, he wandered back to the living room, and into the room next to it. It was empty, just a sad little cardboard box sat next to the door. Jake cautiously opened the almost crumbling flaps and peered inside. With a grin, he pulled out the toy and put it down to the floor.  
   “Oh god, me and Jess had one too, look at this...” but the words died in his throat, leaving him still and silent for a heartbeat. Then he get up from the floor leaving the faded yellow, red and blue toy behind, fleeing from the room.  
   Jake stopped near the living room window, hands desperately gripping the windowsill.  
   “He is not here, you stupid fuck! He is dead! Stop talking to him, stop watching out for him from the corner of your eyes!” his breath fogged the dirty glass in front of his face. “He is not here...”

END


End file.
